One Piece: Transmigrated as Crocodile

The newcomer was Anlin, captain of the Fortress Pirates. Rosen had seen his wanted poster and heard his voice before—there was no mistake. 

Rosen had considered the possibility of pirates attending this banquet, but he hadn't expected a wanted pirate with a bounty exceeding 100 million to be openly invited. 

However, according to Robin's intelligence, both Bordeaux Winery and Medoc Winery paid hefty protection fees to the World Government each year. 

As a result, within their estates, they were granted autonomous law enforcement privileges, free from interference by the Marines or other governmental bodies—similar to the slave auctions on Sabaody Archipelago or the gladiatorial laws of Dressrosa. 

"Desert Saber." 

Since they had crossed paths, Rosen saw no reason to leave loose ends. Even at an event like this, he had no intention of showing mercy. He firmly believed that the dead held no significant value. 

If there were consequences, they would depend on whether Anlin was worth the trouble. 

Alive, he might have people willing to stand up for him. 

Dead, he was worthless. 

The thought flashed through Rosen's mind, and in the next instant, he acted decisively. 

"This is Bordeaux Winery! Crocodile, do you dare attack me here?!" 

Anlin narrowly dodged Rosen's sand blade strike. His expression twisted in fury and disbelief. 

Crocodile had already ruined one of his major income sources, and he hadn't even had the chance to settle that score. Yet now, Crocodile was attacking him here, with no hesitation, as if he intended to kill him outright. 

Damn it! 

All of this… over a bunch of worthless orphans? 

Even if some of them died, who would care? 

And yet, this Marine lapdog was trying to pick a fight with him? 

What kind of lunatic was he?! 

Anlin seethed with rage. 

But more than that, he was confused. 

A Logia-type power? Sand? He had never heard of such an ability before. 

Anlin had never ventured into the New World, nor had anyone explained the different classes of Devil Fruits to him. 

To him, sand seemed unimpressive, even if its form was strange. 

"Fighting is forbidden in Bordeaux Winery!" 

As soon as the battle erupted, a large security force rushed onto the scene. Over a hundred armed guards swiftly surrounded them. 

"We'll just take a moment. Our boss needs to handle some personal business," Daz Bones said, stepping forward to block their approach. 

"Stand down. If you don't, we won't show mercy. No one is allowed to cause trouble in Bordeaux Winery—that's the rule." 

The head of security spoke coldly as his men raised their weapons. 

"I said, just a moment." 

Daz Bones' arms morphed into blades, signaling that he was ready to fight. 

"A Devil Fruit user!" 

The guards murmured in surprise. 

Though Devil Fruit users were not rare, few people had actually seen their powers in action. Even with all the rumors, witnessing an ability firsthand was another matter entirely. 

"I remember the boss said we could kill troublemakers, right? Then let's kill them." 

A scar-faced brute with a crazed expression suddenly lunged from the crowd, swinging his blade at the back of Daz Bones' head. 

He could already envision the severed head flying through the air. 

But instead, there was a metallic clang, sparks flying. 

His sword had shattered. 

"Death Rend!" 

Daz Bones spun, crossing his arms before slashing outward. 

The assailant, who had attempted a sneak attack, instantly became a bloodied mess, his body slashed all over. 

"Agh! What is this?! My hands—why are there hands growing from my back?!" 

Shouts of panic rang out among the guards. 

Not just one, but many of them cried out in terror. 

A series of sickening cracks followed. 

Bones were breaking. 

Robin showed no mercy. 

Since the target of Rosen's wrath was a pirate who exploited children for profit, she had no qualms about lending a hand. 

With the guards momentarily unable to intervene, Rosen seized the opportunity. 

"Sandstorm Surge." 

Since the initial strike hadn't been enough to kill Anlin outright, there was no point in dragging things out. 

He needed to finish this quickly to avoid unnecessary complications. 

Robin and Daz Bones had acted in an instant—so he had to do the same. 

Sandstorm Surge was a new technique Rosen had developed, inspired by Golden Lion's abilities. 

With his increased speed, he could now quickly turn portions of the ground into sand. 

However, since his ability hadn't awakened yet, he could only affect small areas upon direct contact. 

Still, against a single opponent, that was more than enough. 

With a loud rumble, the ground crumbled into sand, surging like a fountain. 

In an instant, golden sands filled the air, swirling violently. 

Anlin found himself surrounded by an all-consuming sandstorm, his body feeling insignificant—like an ant caught in a hurricane. 

"What the hell is this?!" 

Panic crept into Anlin's heart. 

Despite his confidence in his own strength and Devil Fruit ability, this overwhelming force of nature left him deeply unsettled. 

"Damn it—Crocodile Morph!" 

Anlin activated his Devil Fruit power. 

His upper body expanded as his clothes tore apart. 

Scaly armor surfaced on his skin, his arms thickening into powerful limbs, his head slowly transforming into a fearsome crocodile. 

The sandstorm raged around him from all directions, sealing off any escape. 

His only chance would be to flee through the air—but he had no way to do that. 

And the sandstorm was closing in too fast. 

Within the churning mass of sand, loose rocks—partially transformed—hurtled around like deadly projectiles. 

The entire formation resembled the gaping maw of a prehistoric beast. 

And Anlin was right in the center, moments away from being swallowed whole. 

"No—!" 

If he had known this would happen, he would have ignored Rosen entirely. 

But he had assumed that, inside Bordeaux Winery, Crocodile wouldn't dare to make a move. 

And he had believed that his own strength was on par with Crocodile's. 

He had been wrong on both counts. 

He was a rising star among the new generation of pirates, with a bounty exceeding 100 million. 

He was no weakling. 

But the gap between them was undeniable. 

"Sand Burial!" 

To end things decisively, Rosen condensed a massive sand fist, sending it crashing down like a meteor. 

The impact shook the ground, shattering the thin crust of earth that remained beneath the sand. 

"Enough!" 

A voice, ice-cold and authoritative, echoed from the depths of the manor. 

"Recklessly using your abilities right at the host's doorstep… is that the privilege granted to you by the title of Shichibukai, Crocodile?" 

As expected, Rosen knew he wouldn't be able to act unchecked forever. 

That was why he had aimed to finish things quickly. 

As the voice rang out, a black shadow shot forward from within the manor, moving with the speed of a whirlwind. 

Most people couldn't see clearly—only a blur of black lightning streaking into the sandstorm. 

Then came a sharp tearing sound. 

The black figure cut through the swirling sands like a blade slicing mist. 

The sandstorm split apart, dissipating rapidly. 

As the dust settled, a man of about average height—no taller than 1.8 meters—stood holding Anlin's unconscious body. 

Anlin had lost consciousness but was still breathing. 

The resilience of Zoan-type users had allowed him to survive two of Rosen's direct attacks. 

Had he been more prepared, Rosen might not have been able to incapacitate him so quickly. 

Though winning was never in doubt, it wouldn't have been as effortless. 

Rosen clicked his tongue in mild disappointment. 

But it was too late to act now. 

The real problem was the man standing before him. 

He wasn't particularly large. 

He wore a black suit. 

And yet, Rosen felt a distinct sense of danger. 

"Balm." 

The head of Bordeaux Winery. 

A notorious pirate with a bounty of 275 million. 

"I don't know what grudge you have against Anlin, but why not leave it at that? No need to ruin everyone's evening," Balm said coolly. 

His words were blunt, lacking any diplomatic courtesy. 

His sharp gaze locked onto Rosen like a knife. 

Rosen chuckled. 

Looking up at the manor windows, he could see silhouettes watching the spectacle unfold. 

"I think the guests enjoyed the show." 

He lit a cigar, smiling lazily.

(End of Chapter)